


Wonder Upon Wonder

by Hekate1308



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Aziraphale had no business being here. This was Archangels’ territory.But how could he expect to stay away from the birth of Her son? He simply would hide so that no one could see him, and take a look. He promised himself that much.Ineffable Husbands Christmas Fluff.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Wonder Upon Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!

**6 AD**

The humans would later claim that this was actually another year, that it was the year 0.

But that mistake was quite a way off.

Aziraphale had no business being here. This was Archangels’ territory.

But how could he expect to stay away from the birth of Her son? He simply would hide so that no one could see him, and take a look. He promised himself that much.

What he hadn’t expected was not to be the only ethereal… well, _occult_ in this special case who would be lurking about.

What in God’s name was Crowley doing here, was all he thought as he saw the familiar shock of red hair.

Granted, he was a demon, so it wasn’t unlikely that he was here to stir trouble… and yet somehow, Aziraphale couldn’t believe that Crowley would go after Christ himself.

He slowly inched closer, intent on protecting God’s child (while a part of him he couldn’t quite understand was still confused, still insisting that Crowley of all people wouldn’t do something like that) when he realized.

It was winter, and all they had to lay the child in was straw, and it was cold, so very cold.

And Crowley – Crowley was performing miracles to make sure he stayed comfortable and cosy.

Oh, he was being clever about it, of course; Aziraphale wouldn’t have expected anything different from him; but still, for a demon to care so much…

His throat suddenly felt tight and uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to do. Technically, he was supposed to thwart demons’ work of course; but Crowley was doing a good thing here, wasn’t he? And Aziraphale still remembered his face on the day Noah’s ark launched – _You can’t kill kids_.

No, he couldn’t make himself believe that Crowley was here to do a bad thing eventually. Not when the child was just a defenceless baby, and the demon was trying to make him and his family as happy as they could be.

Suddenly, a different thought altogether – why did he ever fall? – and he knew he had t leave.

He couldn’t think things like that. He was an angel. Crowley was fallen. Those were the facts. There was nothing he could do about that.

And so he fled.

The next time they would meet, he would ask Crowley if he even knew Jesus, and he would tell him that he tried to seduce him but Aziraphale would know better.

**637**

There really was, Aziraphale felt, sometimes little to no point in blessing people. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, or making the world a better place; but these days, the higher ups never allowed any miracles to be of long endurance _. It’s supposed to be the Dark Ages_ , they said, _teach them a lesson_ , although Aziraphale was hard pressed to figure out what that lesson was himself.

It was Christmas Eve, and he wasn’t even allowed to help out a single family to have a nice dinner, for Heaven’s sake. This just wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

He was strolling down a street, feeling rather unangelically morose, when he saw Crowley.

Who for some reason had donned on a long coat and was carrying a sack.

Dear God, he hadn’t given into those ridiculous stories of demons fetching children if they had been naughty, had he? (At least Aziraphale thought that was how these stories went. There were so many these days – humans invented so many – that it was hard of to keep track, now and then).

Still, it couldn’t hurt to be sure, and so he followed Crowley.

He stopped at one of the poor dwellings Aziraphale had been contemplating with such pity, and stopped down to rummage in the sack.

Aziraphale watched with bated breath. He was a demon, what could he possibly bring that –

And then he pulled out food and something that looked like a small wooden toy and dropped it on the doorstep before knocking and sprinting off.

Aziraphale stared in wonder as the family opened the door and praised the good spirit who had brought them their Christmas dinner.

This was… decidedly not what demons were supposed to do this time of the year.

But as he walked away, he couldn’t help but feel a warm glow settle in his chest.

**1870**

There was a little girl crying in the streets, and it wasn’t difficult to learn why. It might have been December, Charles Dickens might have been gone for months now, but the people of London still found it difficult to believe that someone like him could die without taking Christmas with him, as well.

And so he made himself ready to perform a few miracles just to see her smile. He might get another strongly worded note from Gabriel but it would be worth it, he was sure, to see her happy once more…

And then he saw Crowley. He was starting to sense a pattern.

The demon looked stylish as always (well, stylish in his own opinion) as he kneeled down beside the girl and started talking to her. Whatever he was telling her was working – she was looking at him with glowing eyes, obviously happy again.

Then Crowley produced a teddy bear out of his pocket and grinned at her.

He was so good with children, always had been.

Aziraphale smiled to himself, thanking Her for letting him see that there was goodness in all of Her creations.

**2019**

There was, of course no reason to consider this Christmas special, but Aziraphale did anyway.

For one thing, the world hadn’t ended so it could happen in the first place. That was something.

And then of course there was…

Well…

He and Crowley had grown closer and closer in the last few months. There Had not ye been any declarations, but he reasoned that Christmas was as good a moment to tell him as any that he – that he –

Well wasn’t this going splendidly. He couldn’t even admit it to himself yet.

But still, it was Christmas, and that meant people ought to tell the truth (so he had heard. He thought so. He was rather sure). And that meant that he and Crowley… well, that he should say… that there ought to be…

Why was this so complicated even after all those years they had spent together, in a sense? He’d certainly had more fun with Crowley than with his angelic brethren in the last six thousand years. That had to counts for something.

He took a deep breath. Alright. Crowley certainly enjoyed the materialistic side of Christmas; if Aziraphale remembered correctly, Crowley had even got a commendation for it back in the days when it had really taken off (thanks to Charles Dickens; and wasn’t it ironic that Crowley had spent the months following his death comforting more than this one girl – so Aziraphale had followed him – he was an angel after all, he was supposed to control demons’ activity on earth, right? He had just been thorough, and that was how he knew – but enough of that).

The point was, he was trying to decorate his bookshop for Christmas and, not having any experience with that sort of thing, he was wondering where to place the mistletoe (or if he even should… after all, what if Crowley didn’t want to – but certainly – it had been so long – Aziraphale would know if he was against… why was this so complicated? They had survived the Apocalypse, it shouldn’t be this way) when Mrs. Leeds from next door walked in. “Oh, Mr. Fell! I was just going to give you the season’s greetings, but I wasn’t expecting this!”

Mrs. Leeds little shop mostly hadn’t gone out of business because Aziraphale had blessed it back in the seventies (he was rather certain she suspected he wasn’t… completely normal, since they had known each other for decades now, but she had never asked). “I just thought… it is Christmas” he replied, somewhat lamely (at least so Crowley would have told him).

“For your young man, I gather” she said, her eyes sparkling.

And then Mrs. Leeds’ ten-year-old grandson, who Aziraphale had failed to notice until now, piped up, “Oh, but you have to hang the mistletoe here… right in the middle of the shop! That’s the place for it!”

He supposed it was as good a recommendation as any, and so he did just as he was told. He and Mrs. Leeds then shared a cup of tea before she left with a wink and a prediction that “Your beau is sure to arrive soon, love” (maybe adding a drop of whiskey to her tea hadn’t been the best idea).

Still, she was right – Crowley certainly would show up soon (after all, it was Christmas, and as opposed to the centuries where they hadn’t seen much of one another, these days It was rather unusual for them not to at least talk on the phone at least once a week… or for Crowley not to pop in, now that he thought about it).

And so he waited.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Soon enough the door swung open and Crowley strolled in. “Merry Christmas Angel, thought we could… what is that!?”

He had hopped for a somewhat happier reception and so only answered meekly, “Mrs. Leeds’ grandson suggested it”.

Crowley was still staring at the mistletoe. “I see.”

Aziraphale swallowed. “I meant it’s not –“

“A kiss, then?”

He stared at Crowley. All these millennia, and he just said it out loid.

“You see, we can’t disappoint the little boy, can we?” Crowley drawled.

And Aziraphale decided to be brave. “Or we could do it because we want to” he said, reaching out and cradling his demon’s cheek.

Now it was Crowley’s turn to look away. “I – I guess so.”

Aziraphale kissed him. 

And, even though neither of them heard it, a bell started to ring.


End file.
